


Trust in Need

by Genuinelies



Series: Trust in Need [1]
Category: Warcraft (2016), World of Warcraft
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 08:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7214689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genuinelies/pseuds/Genuinelies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of their efforts to save Azeroth, Anduin struggles to come to peace with his losses, and tries not to count Khadgar among them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust in Need

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I'm obsessed with World of Warcraft, and just came from seeing the movie, and am sailing over the horizon with this ship.
> 
> Despite all that, I really have no clue what I'm doing with the characterizations of these two, so there's that.

He didn’t say it, but Anduin Lothar could feel the bartender thinking it. _Again, Lothar, really? Hasn’t it been long enough?_ People died in these troubling times. He’d put enough souls to rest himself. So why was he dwelling on the ones he’d lost, instead of bearing it like the soldier he was?

He almost wished he would say it out loud, instead of disapprovingly polishing his glasses and watching out of the corner of his eye, because he felt he could really use a tussle at the moment. Unfortunately for him, the man was a friend, and the Goldshire Inn was the only place he felt comfortable enough making such a display out of himself. So no picking fights.

Yet.

Certainly, he understood where the judgment was coming from. He, the King’s protector. He, the hero of Azeroth who helped defeat Medivh in his darkest hour. And the celebration of the days before had of course been decadently pleasant and hard-earned.

But it didn’t bring back his son.

A hero’s death or not – what did that matter to a father, at the heart of it?

He waved his hand to the bartender. The man frowned so hard there were grooves in his cheek, but he filled his cup. He must have sensed Anduin spoiling for a fight.

Then there was the incomprehensible loss, the one that perhaps only three people would have even the slightest sympathy for, one of who was now dead. His King. His sister. Perhaps the mage Khadgar. They were the only ones who saw the good in Garona, as he did. He had believed in her. She had comforted him during his darkest hour. She was a strong friend and ally and had made him feel like perhaps, perhaps, they would have a place at each other’s side. No one had made him feel like that since his beloved wife’s death.

No woman.

Then, she had betrayed them all. He wanted to believe there was a reason for such a senseless turnaround. He wanted to trust his feelings, he wanted to know that he couldn’t have been that bad of a judge of character when it came down to it. He wanted to know that the potential between them hadn’t been a lie.

Mostly, he wanted the hole in his chest to fill up again. He was doing his best to fulfill that wish with spirits.

It didn’t matter, if Garona had betrayed them, or if in the end, she had done it for them, still, in her own way. She was lost to him now, the line between the Horde and the humans too sharp to cross in his lifetime.

Then there was Khadgar himself. The true hero of the times, the true savior and guardian of Azeroth. The little squirrelly sneak hadn’t even stayed to celebrate their victory, not more than was absolutely required, at least. He had tripped as he had been congratulated, he kept shooting Anduin low-lidded, inscrutable looks while he was there, and then – just as he had come into Anduin’s life, he was gone.

That was the alcohol talking, of course. He knew where to find him.

Kharazan.

He’d never said that, but Anduin just knew that’s where he’d holed himself up, alone. To clean up after his mentor, by himself. To prepare to take the weight of the world on his shoulders, by himself.

Though, Anduin had no doubt that when he had need of him, of them, of anyone, he would show up and just start meddling, exactly as he had done.

He put his face in his hands and massaged his temples.

It was funny, he thought, how before Garona had come, he had seen a son in Khadgar. He had seemed so young in the dungeons. And yet one flare of blue magic, and watching the mage stick his fingers into a dead man’s throat to release the Fel was enough to dispel all illusions of that. His large eyes were deceptive. Anduin had felt protective of him many times, yet in the end, he was the more capable of them. He was the one who brought down the corrupted guardian. He was the one who protected Anduin at the top of the mage tower, even as he cleared the Fel away with the power of the light. Yes, in many ways he seemed innocent. But after Garona….

…after Garona, Anduin wasn’t sure if he could trust his impressions of his friends. Emotions too easily clouded his judgment, it seemed. And that had never been the case before.

It bothered him, though, he mused. Thinking of Khadgar alone in the tower, with his books and his magic.

Donated by his parents at age six, he’d said, to the Kirin Tor. A high honor he had never asked for.

His parents’ decision might have saved their world.

But parentless at six, and then in hiding for much of the rest of his life…

Anduin stared into the depths of his mug. It wasn’t quite pity he was feeling. A lot of it was anger, that such a good person would have to hide themselves from the world in the first place.

He sat up straight, suddenly, with the clarity of the well and truly drunk.

“He hasn’t been around people,” he commented to the air, and the one extremely shady character in the corner who had passed out about one hour before.

“Is that right?”

Oh, right. And the bartender. “Yes. He doesn’t have friends. He doesn’t think  I mean. Doesn’t think he has friends. That’s not right. He doesn’t think he needs us.” Anduin squinted. “No, he needs us and he knows it. He came and got me with a sheep.”

The bartender’s eyebrows – eyebrow, actually, since the other was more of a scar than anything else – rose up to where his hairline should have been. “I see.”

“He’s frustrating and alone,” Anduin announced. “Far more annoying than you think he could be, for someone with a face like that.”

“Hm.”

“You’re humoring me, but that’s all right,” Anduin grinned. “You’re a good man. Thank you for listening. Shall I tab my pay? Pay my tab.”

“Last free night,” the man grunted. “All right? For your son. But next time you pay, and you’re out the door at a decent hour.”

Anduin pushed himself unsteadily to his feet and clapped the bartender’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

He walked out the door with dignity, then promptly vomited into a bush.

#

The landscape around Kharazan was as barren as it was when he’d seen it last, full of rubble, and dust, broken trees and an ungodly amount of spiders. There was a new crackle in the air as well, the type one felt when someone extremely powerful did something like, oh, open a gateway to an entirely different realm using dark magic.

It had only been a day or so since Khadgar had last been seen, but he assumed that it was enough time for someone like him to put up wards and protective spells, so instead of landing at the top of the tower as he wished he landed his griffon gently nearby, solidly on the ground. He gave it instructions to go somewhere safe, but to be on hand readily. He didn’t like the thought of his companion being alone in the thick of the ruins.

As it was, Anduin walked up to the tower, and was surprised when he easily pushed open the door.

Everything was a mess. The beautiful walls were cracked, many of the meticulously ordered bookshelves had fallen, spilling their contents across the marble. Some still stood, however, and it was enough to block his view of the stairs, and of any occupants that might be there.

A fluid chanting in a familiar voice had greeted him upon entering, but it halted mid-word with the first click of his heel on the floor.

“Who is there?”

Anduin’s lips curved up. For being all alone in an abandoned tower, Khadgar still sounded simply pleasant and curious.

There was the lie, wasn’t it? The mage was able to disarm anyone by simply acting the naïve idiot.

“A friend,” Anduin called.

There was the sound of many books falling. Curiously Anduin peered around the shelves. There was some more muttering, a flash of blue, and then a curse he wouldn’t have guessed the younger man to have known.

“Be right there!”

Anduin was outright smirking. “Do you need help? Or has your library got the better of you? ‘Here lies the Guardian of Azeroth, died in the Battle of the Books.” He winced at his own words and sobered up, metaphorically speaking, of course. The alcohol wasn’t leaving his bloodstream any time that night.

“It takes more than – oof! – that to defeat me, I’m afraid.” Khadgar finally became visible, his robes torn and dusty. He still wore that bright-eyed look, though, as he met Anduin’s eyes.

Khadgar immediately frowned. “Has something happened? I know I’ve been distracted here but it’s only been a few days, I had hoped…”

“No! No.” Anduin stretched his shoulders. “Nothing is the matter. Do not worry. Though it seems all you have time to do, now that you’re done with Stormwind.” He wasn’t even sure where those words came from.

“I am not done with Stormwind! I’ve told you, when you have need of me to…” Khadgar blinked at him. “Are you drunk? What time is it, anyway? The afternoon?”

“It’s the middle of the night,” and no, Anduin wasn’t blushing from admitting that fact, he wasn’t an idiot. It was perfectly normal to come calling on people. Well, it should be to come calling on Khadgar. He didn’t even know what time it was, so what did it matter, really?

“Is it?” Khadgar peered outside. It was hazy enough to cast some doubt on whether it was moonlight or sunlight shining down, but it served to cement Anduin’s belief that this was a very needed visit. “You are drunk.”

“Are you going to chide me, too?” It came out more bitterly than he’d intended.

Khadgar’s fingers were absentmindedly brushing the book in his hand. He was no longer meeting Anduin’s eyes. “As you see, I’m very busy here. So if you’d like to stay, you can find a corner to please-not-die-in, or help shelve.”

“Shelve,” Anduin echoed doubtfully.

But Khadgar had already buried himself in the maze of bookshelves. “I have to read all of these, and I’m already running out of time. If you have any questions about a language just…put it aside, I suppose.”

Anduin stood for a moment, looking troubled at the vast amount of knowledge spread haphazardly in front of him.

‘Have to read all of these,’ he mouthed to himself.

So that was that, it seemed. He could get on his griffon and ride back to his warm bed and daily, empty life, or he could help shelve arcane books like the most dubious of librarians.

He closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, coming here. Pats on the back between them? A few more drinks? A heart-to-heart?

To be honest, though, he didn’t feel like heading back to Stormwind any time soon. He turned in a stiff about face and went outside into the wastes again, calling down his griffon. He removed his packs and brought out parchment and quill, scrawling a detailed note to his sister so that the Kingdom wouldn’t worry. She’d given him a week’s leave of absence as it was, and he’d begrudgingly accepted. His mind wasn’t in the right place, and even he could admit that. With a pat on the rump, his griffon took to the air. He watched it disappear beyond the dust of Kharazan.

He went back inside in time to hear Khadgar mutter, “That’s it, then.”

Giving himself a private half-smile, he made sure his feet made almost no sound whatsoever as he settled in front of a pile of books to start sorting.

He wondered if the mage would perhaps talk more to himself, than to him.

#

Anduin woke to a blue glow crackling in front of his nose. With a jolt, he scrambled for his weapon, sending a cascade of old tomes sliding across the floor.

It took him a moment, but he finally remembered where he was. Relaxing, he pushed himself into a sitting position.

“You vomited,” Khadgar, who was sitting with his back pressed up against a wall, sounded extremely irritated. He had a disc of arcane light swirling in front of one hand.

“Oh?” Anduin said cautiously. He winced and gripped his temple.

“It was on an ancient Dwarven tome. An irreplaceable, much needed tome, in fact, that outlined the construction of-“

“Can you please lower your voice?” Anduin hissed.

“You came back,” Khadgar said after a moment, loudly.

Anduin closed his eyes and proceeded to rub his eyelids with his palms. “Yes, and you left. Can you please – make that cursed light go away.”

Khadgar’s silence was enough to make him look up. He’d extinguished his magic. His legs were splayed in front of him, as if he, too, were exhausted.

“Is it over your son, or Garona?” Khadgar finally asked softly. “She had to have had her reasons.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Anduin spat. “My king, my friend, is still dead. And she’s gone.” He pressed his lips together.

Khadgar had fear in his eyes, Anduin realized suddenly, and it was oddly placed and timed. He gentled his tone. “Are you all right here?“ He gestured to the room. “We’ve already had one guardian who thought he could do it all alone, and see how that turned out.”

Khadgar smirked at him. “I promise you I do just fine on my own, and no, I am not planning to cut myself off from the world.”

“Just-“ _Just us, then._ Anduin cut off his words. He leaned forward on his knees and gave Khadgar a deeply assessing look. There was the fear, that was too-slowly disappearing into an arrogant amusement, there were the hands, making movements as if they were anxious to grab onto something, or perhaps cast a spell. There were the cobwebs, clinging to the hair behind his left ear.

The mage stood rather than bear his scrutiny. He took a step and stumbled over a book.

Anduin shot to his feet and grabbed his arm, steadying him. Khadgar met his eyes, and it felt like tangible energy passed between them, if only for a moment. He struggled to remember what he’d been about to say, then suddenly, it was as if a floodgate had been opened.

 _This was the feeling he had been struggling to name,_ he realized. It wasn’t the protectiveness of a father, or the good humor of a friend.

He let go of the mage as if burned. The hurt was visible for the briefest of moments in Khadgar’s eyes.

“Be sure of that,” Anduin stuttered out, after far too long.

Khadgar looked at him somberly for a moment, then gave the briefest of nods. “You’ll need a port back, since you sent your griffon away. Not very smart thinking on your part. I’d be more careful in the-“

He began gathering blue energy out of the air, or so it seemed to Anduin. It was not lost on him that Khadgar couldn’t bring himself to say ‘the future’, or even, ‘next time.’

He put out a hand toward the other man. “Stop.”

“It’s best if you go back to-“

“No. I said stop. Khadgar. Stop!” Without thinking, he stepped forward into the arcane portal, and just managed to slap a hand on Khadgar’s shoulder before he winked out of existence, only to reappear in his own dwelling back in Stormwind.

Spitting epithets, Anduin Lothar punched the wall, and only got a splinter for his efforts.

#

Anduin spent the next several days sulking and skulking about Stormwind Keep, training, and working and generally doing all the things his sister had told him not to do while he supposedly gave himself a break to recover from his losses. It was easier to stay sober and ignore the ache in his chest if he kept busy.

He knew full well he was bothering all of his guards, as they were under strict orders to let him do no such thing, but the problem was, if you ran a good operation your subordinates could be your friends, and most of them took too much pity on him to do more than grumble at him.

As things do, though, word got around, and that meant he was banned from the castle, unless it was strictly on social terms.

Which meant he had far too much time on his hands, again, which was how he found himself down by the lake, skipping stones like he had done so many times before with his son.

Which meant, of course, he was thinking again about how very much his son _was not there_ to skip stones with him.

Which is, of course, how he got himself kicked out of every bar in Stormwind. Which is how he ended back in Goldshire, with a very annoyed barkeep pouring him half of what he ordered, every time.

Ah, well. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.

#

“No, that’s quite all right. I’ll manage him.”

Anduin raised his head off of the sticky pub table and blearily focused on Khadgar waving away the bartender, who unsurprisingly was all too eager at the prospect of getting Anduin out of his establishment.

“Great,” he muttered. “Has something happened?”

“I realized I was being particularly obtuse, after thinking on how you ended up coming to my tower, which happens to be in ruins, and in the middle of a wasteland, in the middle of the night, by griffon, completely drunk.”

“Your tower,” Anduin chortled.

“Medivh can no longer claim it, and the Kirin Tor certainly aren’t going to take it, so yes, my tower.” Khadgar got a shoulder under Anduin’s armpit and hefted him up.

Anduin spread his hands in the air. “That’s all I said.”

Khadgar jostled him, making the room spin. “Your sister told me to look for you here,” he offered.

“Of course she did,” Anduin muttered. He side-eyed Khadgar, then tested his drunken luck, splaying his hands for support across the mage’s surprisingly muscled chest.

Khadgar stumbled a bit, and Anduin smiled to himself, satisfied.

When they got outside, Khadgar breathed into his ear, “You have-had a son, and your wife, and Garona. I’m not stupid, Lothar. You’re used to protecting people. But you can’t save everyone, and I do not need your protection.”

“Anduin.”

“Mm.”

“That’s my name.”

Khadgar tilted his head. “Anduin, then.”

Anduin closed his eyes. It was an odd feeling, hearing that name in that voice. He blinked blearily at the empty square and dark blacksmith’s shop in front of them.

“What are you getting at, bringing all of them up?” Anduin winced at the way his voice cracked, from drink and heartbrokenness.

“I have a lot of work ahead of me, and your place is here,” Khadgar said evenly. “Stormwind needs its protector, just as Azeroth needs me.”

“I am positive I’ve heard you say you weren’t the guardian to Medivh no less than three times,” Anduin countered.

“Yes, well, things change,” Khadgar said in a clipped tone.

Anduin pressed his nose into Khadgar’s neck, bolder now that whatever had been brewing between them was at least partially acknowledged. “And you’re afraid.”

Khadgar dropped him. Anduin managed to catch himself on his palms in the dirt road. He bounced up and dusted himself off, wagging a finger in cheerful warning. This was what he needed. And really, this time, it was completely fair to say he hadn’t started it.

Grinning, he launched himself at the mage, bowling him over. Khadgar managed to get two feet between them, springing Anduin off of him. His eyes were wide and his hair disheveled. Anduin grabbed him around the waist and they struggled, going back and forth on who had the upper hand until they were panting, always just stopping short of true blows.

“Where’s your magic, mage?” Anduin taunted.

Something in Khadgar’s face closed off, and it took the fight right out of him. Huffing, Anduin straightened, clapping a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Right,” he muttered.

“The people know what have happened, mostly,” Khadgar mused. “So I expect that I...I won’t have to be so careful. But here, in the dead of night, in this small outpost, why stir up any unwanted attention?”

“So no ports home, then, I guess?”

“Farther back, in the woods, I will be porting home, and you will be calling your griffon,” Khadgar said.

Anduin narrowed his eyes. “Then why come find me at all?”

Khadgar started walking toward the trees. “It didn’t seem as though your behavior was likely to be a one-time occurance.”

“And you wanted to put an end to it,” the words were bitter in Anduin’s mouth. “Any visits to your tower.”

“I told you, if you have need of me, I will-“

Anduin grabbed hold of his arm, and spun him into a large trunk. Khadgar looked at him with his brown eyes blown wide. “Let’s get one thing clear,” Anduin gritted out. “I know my duties. I know who saved who at Kharazan. I know you don’t need protecting. I also know you don’t have a clue why I came to find you, despite this very well-rehearsed speech. And I also know that you think you’re fine by yourself, because it’s all you’ve known. But I haven’t been by myself. I’ve had my son. I’ve had my friends. And they’ve made my life better. And I’m not about to let my new friend hole himself up away from the world because of his stupid ideas of responsibility. Whether or not that’s what this friend wants to do.”

Khadgar’s face was open, for once. He swallowed so that the ball of his throat bobbed. “As I said,” he said quietly, intensely, “You’ve had family and lovers, Anduin, and I really don’t think my place is among them. Not in the way you want. It’s best if-“

“I’m telling you,” Anduin said evenly, knowing exactly how Khadgar meant it and was ultimately misconstruing it, “I have need of you.”

Khadgar blinked at him. “Oh.”

Anduin inclined his head, ironically, and stepped back, allowing the other man room.

Khadgar’s hand shot out, grabbing the throat of Anduin’s cloak. In another second he pulled him to him, so close that their breaths ghosted along each other’s lips. “That changes things,” Khadgar said, his eyes wide and still a little fearful, and kissed him.

Anduin stepped forward until their entire bodies were touching, and enthusiastically deepened their kiss, his hand finding its way to the back of the mage’s head, his fingers tangling in his hair. It was obvious that this might very well be the first kiss Khadgar had ever had, so Anduin was doubly determined to put effort into it.

As with everything else, Khadgar was a fast learner. He released Anduin’s clothes in favor of gripping his hips instead, drawing their erections together through the wool of their pants.

“Now?” Anduin gasped. “Can you port us now?”

“You’ll have to give me room.”

Anduin groaned. Khadgar chuckled, and it loosened something hard and painful in Anduin’s chest to hear it. He smiled back at him ruefully. “Or possibly here is just fine?”

“To be honest, I’m not exactly sure what’s living-ah, dwelling?-in my tower,” Khadgar admitted sheepishly.

The frown crept over Anduin’s face of its own accord. “Come again?”

Khadgar waved him off. “I need more time to look at it. It’s why I don’t want you coming there, at least for now.”

Deeply unsettled, Anduin pressed a kiss to Khadgar’s throat, testing the waters. Khadgar made a little, unbidden noise and tilted his head sideways in clear invitation. Anduin grinned against his skin. “We’ll talk about that,” he said, and palmed Khadgar through his trousers to distract him from any argument.

It worked. Khadgar shuddered tangibly against him.

“So Garona’s speech about me being a terrible lover-“

“She’s proved she’s not trustworthy, hasn’t she?” Anduin said. “No arguments. Not now. Come on. Stop thinking, for once.”

“Right,” Khadgar muttered, gripping Anduin’s shoulders as he moved lower, mouthing over Khadgar’s clothes until he reached his waist. He pulled up his tunic and worked loose his belt. “Can I – is it all right if I-?”

Guessing what he meant, Anduin tugged him down until he was lying in the grass. His eyes reflected the light of the moon, reminiscent of how blue his eyes glowed when he used his power.

“Should I be doing something?” Khadgar propped himself up on his elbows, only to be pushed down again by Anduin.

“No. Not yet. Stop thinking.” He tugged down the mage’s pants and slid his mouth around the other man’s cock, drawing out a surprised, pleased gasp that quickly turned into muffled pants as Anduin went to work. He was aware of the mage’s fingers scrabbling in the grass frantically, and the little aborted bucks of his hips. Like he’d thought. A fast learner.

“We’re – ah – we’re not doing this in your cottage because-ah!” Khadgar grunted as he came, spilling into Anduin’s mouth. He swallowed what he could and spit out the rest, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and grinning down at Khadgar, whose eyes were impossibly large as he looked back at him. He flopped back on the grass, his stomach rising and falling rapidly.

“Because I was impatient, and afraid you’d port me there alone,” Anduin drawled, sitting on the grass beside him. “Like last time.”

“I didn’t know last time,” Khadgar said earnestly.

“Oh,” Anduin glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. He was still achingly hard, but he didn’t want to rush or ruin whatever this was between them. He looked back out into the forest, then back at Khadgar in realization. “That’s why you got rid of me so quickly. You…”

Khadgar pushed himself up, and mimicked Anduin’s earlier motions, starting by kissing at his neck. Anduin made a pleased sound, but grabbed Khadgar’s wrist, moving it toward his waist until he got the idea and went for his belt. He made a motion as if to return the favor with his mouth, but Anduin took his hand, covering it with his own and guiding it downward. He let go and leaned backward as Khadgar gripped his erection and began expertly pumping.

“We should start with something you know how to do,” Anduin laughed.

Khadgar, without breaking his hold, settled behind him, pulling Anduin into his chest. “It’s almost as if you don’t want me to finish.” He stopped for just a moment, and yes, Anduin whimpered. Khadgar snickered quietly in his ear. His other hand settled supportively around his waist, and Anduin closed his eyes and let him get swept away by the sorcerer’s deft fingers. He came, curling over himself, with a small cry. Khadgar pumped a few more times until he was completely done, then wiped his hands on the grass.

The two men shifted and adjusted and pulled up their clothes, then Khadgar pulled them both backward until they were propped up once again by the tree, their breathing slowly settling.

“It was true,” Khadgar said thoughtfully, absentmindedly stroking Anduin’s arm. “What I said about our roles.”

Anduin nodded sleepily, the back of his head against the shorter man’s chest. “We’ll make it work, while we can, and when we can. Stop thinking.”

Khadgar lifted his hand from Anduin’s arm, and drew the blue arcane light around them both. A moment later, they were in Anduin’s bedroom. They came to a silent agreement and stripped, climbing into bed together, shifting until Khadgar was, squirmily, being held by Anduin.

“You know,” Khadgar yawned. “I will have to do much of it by myself.”

“Stop thinking, bookworm,” Anduin repeated.

“It’s my thinking that kept us all alive,” Khadgar grumbled, but fell silent at last. His fingers, though, were curled gently around Anduin’s own.

Anduin smiled against Khadgar’s hair, and they fell asleep together.

#

And they woke up the next morning, together, to face whatever would come.

 


End file.
